


Come With Me

by frecklesarechocolate



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas go on a date. There's Italian food and handholding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Now see? HERE'S the fluff I wanted to write yesterday! Thanks to [Colonialdncr](http://colonialdncr.tumblr.com) for being a great beta!

"Dean." Cas, as always, arrived with flurry of wings and trench coat, Dean's only warning a slight crackling in the air. Dean smiled up at the angel from where he sat on the couch, pleased to see Cas. It had been about a week.

"Hey Cas, what's going on?"

Cas settled on the couch next to Dean. "I would like to try the Italian restaurant that we passed by the other day."

Dean, who was drinking beer, paused as he brought the bottle up toward his mouth. "What?"

"That Italian restaurant. You said that you thought I would like Italian food, and I have time tonight, so I'd like to try it," Cas explained patiently.

"Cas, that restaurant is four states away." Dean put the beer bottle on the table.

Cas gave Dean a look. "Dean." It was his 'oh please' look, the one that he used to remind Dean that Cas was, in fact, an angel of the Lord, and didn't have to let pesky things like several hundred miles get in the way of something he wanted.

Dean scrubbed his face with his hand. "Okay, Cas, sure. Um. It looked a little fancy, so I'll have to shower and change." He looked at Cas for a moment. "And we should probably..." He eyed Cas's tie for a second, and then buttoned up his shirt and retied the tie so it was neatly done up. He wiped some imagined dust off of Cas's shoulders and pressed his hands against Cas's chest lightly, lingering for a moment. "Okay," he said again. Dean stood and headed into the bathroom and hopped into the shower.

Cas waited on the couch, a small smile playing on his lips. He'd learned fairly quickly that being direct was the best way to get Dean to do what he wanted. He listened to the sound of the shower, and thought that maybe he heard Dean humming and singing.

Dean was out of the shower fairly quickly, and he contemplated his reflection. Did he need to shave? He put his hand to his chin and examined his face closely, deciding that he didn't need to after all. Besides, Cas probably didn't care either way. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went down the hall to his room, letting puffs of steamy air out into the hallway.

In his room, he opened the closet. Suddenly nervous, he wondered what he should wear, which, of course, was a ridiculous thought to have, because he was Dean fucking Winchester, and he didn't do chick flick moments, which means that he didn't get fluttery about going out to eat with a friend. Except that it probably wasn't just going out to eat. It was probably a date.

He and Cas hadn't really talked about this thing that was between them, they just sort of, well, were. They spent time together beyond hunting, Cas popped in a lot more frequently just to hang out, and sometimes they cuddled together on the couch. Yes, fucking cuddling, despite the fact that again, Dean fucking Winchester, and no chick flick moments. Somehow, spending time wrapped up in Cas's arms didn't exactly feel quite so girly as he'd thought it would, and dammit it was comfortable, warm and no way was Dean giving that up.

But that didn't change the fact that he was still standing in front of his closet half naked trying to figure out what he was going to wear out to dinner at a fancy restaurant with his not-boyfriend-friend who happened to also be an angel.

How was this his life?

Dean glared at the suits in his closet and decided that he wasn't going to go full on FBI regalia, despite the fact that Cas was also in a suit, and he picked out a dark charcoal gray pair of pants and a white shirt. He pulled a dark blue sweater vest out of his dresser and got dressed quickly. He poured a bit of hair product into his hand, grimacing at the slightly floral scent of it, and scrubbed it through his hair. Once more he examined his reflection and decided that he was gussied up enough for the restaurant that Cas wanted to go to.

He walked back out into the living room, smiling at Cas, who was still seated on the couch watching whatever channel had been on when Dean left to take his shower. "Ready, Cas?"

Cas looked up at Dean and smiled widely – a full on smile that Dean so rarely saw – and Dean was glad that he'd at least taken some time and effort in getting dressed. He did his best to completely ignore the continuing fluttering in his stomach as Cas came to stand next to him. As usual, Cas was standing close, too close, and Dean sucked in a breath, trying to gain a modicum of equilibrium. Cas smirked at him and raised his fingers to Dean's forehead, zapping them to the restaurant.

It was still early yet, the sun just setting, casting a golden glow on everything. They were across the street from the restaurant; a small family-owned one with a gaily-colored awning. They crossed the street and entered the restaurant, their senses assaulted by the combined smells of tomatoes, garlic and baking bread. Dean's mouth began to water almost immediately. Cas, who was standing in front of Dean, reached back and squeezed Dean's hand lightly.

Because of the early hour, they were seated immediately at a small table in the corner. Dean didn't know whether the maitre’d had done this on purpose, but Dean was glad of the small amount of privacy that they'd been offered. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to be seen with Cas, who, now that his shirt and tie were done up properly, was looking pretty good. Dean actually was looking forward to spending some time with the angel, and wasn't that just the weirdest fucking thing?

Cas perused the menu like it was the battle plans for smiting some city or another, frowning and chewing slightly on his lip. Dean watched as Cas's eyes flitted back and forth between the right and left side of the menu and decided that the level of concentration with which Cas approached just about everything was adorable. Dean felt that he could admit that kind of thing inside his head, since no one was ever going to know it beside himself.

Cas's eyes flicked up from the menu to capture Dean's, and he smiled. "I think I have decided what I would like to try. What about you?" Dean realized he'd been staring at Cas and hadn't had a chance to even open the menu, so he quickly picked it up and glanced through it.

They ordered their food, and talked of inconsequential things while waiting for it to come. Cas looked around the restaurant with great interest, watching others eating, the waiters at work, the bartender wiping the bar with a towel. Cas seemed particularly interested in another couple seated not far from them. Cas caught Dean’s eye and nodded his head in their direction.

“What, Cas?” Dean asked, taking a bite of bread from the basket that the waiter had placed in the middle of the table. The bread was warm, just shy of too hot, having just come from the oven. It tasted as if it had been just baked, all yeasty, instead of just heated up. He was glad that Cas had wanted to try this place – if the food was anything like the bread, then it was going to be fantastic.

Cas leaned forward slightly and spoke in a loud whisper. “That couple is holding hands.” Dean peeked over his shoulder, and sure enough, they were sitting crowded together over the small table, their hands clasped together on the table top. That small fluttering feeling in Dean’s stomach grew a bit as he turned back to look at Cas. He was staring intently at the couple, but they were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t notice.

Dean thought he might have an idea where Cas was going with this, but he was not at all sure how he felt about PDA with an angel. A guy. “Yeah, couples do that, Cas.”

Cas nodded once, continuing to watch them thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when the waiter brought their food. They spent a few minutes eating, commenting on the food, and how good it was. Cas kept flicking his eyes at Dean’s plate in a completely unsubtle fashion.

“Do you want to try some of it?” Dean asked finally.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Lasagna. It’s good. It’s got layers,” Dean explained, and he pushed his plate toward the center of the table. Cas stuck his fork in his mouth and pulled it out slowly as if to remove traces of his dinner from it before he moved it hesitantly toward Dean’s plate. Dean nodded encouragingly, thinking that he would never, ever, have been comfortable allowing Lisa or even Sam to use their own fork on his food, and here he was letting Cas do it without batting an eye. Huh.

Cas took a small forkful of Dean’s lasagna and ate it, closing his eyes as he chewed, as if to better gauge the different taste sensations. Dean found that he was mesmerized by the way that Cas’s jaw moved, the way he pulled the fork slowly from his mouth, the way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he ate. Finally, Cas opened his eyes. “That is good. Thank you, Dean.” He looked down at his dish, an enormous bowl of spaghetti Bolognese. “Would you like to try some of mine?”

Dean shook his head. “No thanks, dude. I’m really enjoying my lasagna here.”

Cas nodded, but tried one more time. “It _is_ good. Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Thanks though.”

A few more minutes of intense eating ensued, and then Cas asked, “Dean? Are we a couple?”

Dean froze, the forkful of food he’d been bringing to his mouth hanging midway in the air between his plate and his mouth. It was the first time that Cas had directly asked the question, and Dean, who should have been prepared to answer it, should have known it was coming…Dean was caught off guard. He lowered his fork slowly and pushed the plate away. He wanted to concentrate more closely on the conversation.

“Well…I…” Dean tried to begin, but really had no idea what he even wanted to say. Cas was his best friend. Cas was an angel. Cas was…well, there were so many things that Cas was. Dean never thought that Cas would be part of a couple, or that Dean would be the other part of that couple. But they did the cuddling thing. And, apparently now, the dating thing. They hadn’t kissed, they hadn’t had any great declarations of love or anything, they’d just moved from a relationship where Dean was wary about his personal space to one where they took comfort in sharing space, in each other’s touch, in a totally platonic way.

But it really wasn’t that platonic, not really. Or, at least Dean didn’t think so.

Finally, Dean landed on what he thought was the best way to answer Cas’s question: with one of his own. “Do you want to be one? A couple, I mean.”

Cas tilted his head, his eyes scrunching up a little bit in a way that Dean absolutely did _not_ consider adorable. “Would we have to change our relationship?”

Dean chuckled. “We wouldn’t have to _do_ anything.” He paused, uncertain whether he should say the next thing, but then he decided to throw caution to the wind. “We could try kissing though.” And no, he wasn’t blushing at all. Shut up.

Cas smiled at that, and nodded his head once, as if approved of something. “Then yes, I would like to be a couple.”

Dean grinned. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Cas took another bite of his spaghetti, but put his fork down almost immediately. “Could we hold hands? Like that couple over there?”

Dean hesitated, but then decided in for a penny, in for a pound. He reached across the table and folded his fingers through Cas’s, squeezing lightly. “Yeah, Cas, we can do that.”


End file.
